Exploration
by acpadilla
Summary: New. Joan Watson liked new. It was always exciting to see and experience new places. A Kid!lock genderbend AU fic. Co-authored by frecleface.
1. Chapter One: New House

Exploration

By

Anna and Sonja

Summary: New. Joan Watson liked new. It was always exciting to see and experience new places.

Chapter One: New House

New. Joan Watson liked new. It was always exciting to see and experience new places. She had known her family was going to move for months now. Mummy had told her that when they would move to the country, they would be a proper family again. Joan almost believed her, but she didn't feel they would be; not without Dad. Still, Joan was happy that they were finally on the road to their new home.

Harry, however, wasn't happy at all. Joan's brother sat beside her in the backseat of the car. He was slumped down in the seat, his arms crossed and his heated face glaring into the rear-view mirror. Harry had pitched a fit before they got into the car. Joan tried to calm him down, telling him that everything would be better when they reached their new home. Harry didn't believe her, but Mum forced him into the car either way.

When they reached their neighborhood, Joan's nose pressed against the passenger-side window. Her blue eyes soaked in everything. They passed by many beautiful houses. Each one was unique and pretty. Joan couldn't wait to see if they housed other kids her age. She fell back into her seat with a smile; she decided she liked this neighborhood already.

It was then one home in particular caught Joan's eye especially. It was a bit further down the road, perched on a slightly taller hill. It was two stories, painted a brightening white, and had a large yard. She hoped her new house was just as pretty. At that moment, the car turned into a driveway. As soon as the car came to a stop, Joan unbuckled herself and sprung out of the car.

The house was a humble one. It was one story, and made of brick. It didn't have as large of a yard as the other, but Joan didn't mind. "It's perfect!" She shouted to no one in particular.

Her mother emerged from the car and smiled, "I'm glad you think so, dear." she said.

Joan heard Harry as he pulled himself out of the car, "It looks stupid." He said.

She paid no mind to Harry. Joan liked the house. It was good enough for her.

* * *

><p>Mummy was yelling again. No surprise. She had done that a lot recently, especially in the evenings when Papa had forgotten to lock the windows. But for the past week, she had actually thrown fits in the morning as well, even going so far as to burst into Shirley and Myrtle's rooms to see if they were still there. Or something. It was really annoying.<p>

Today had been one of those days. Shirley had gone to sleep late the night before because she had wanted to see some stars, but nothing had shown. So when Mummy had barged into her room the next morning yelling her name and swinging some kind of battering object into the air, Shirley had of course shot up awake instantly. Mummy had then proceeded to do this in every room of the house (and there were plenty of those), so there had been no hope of going back to sleep.

So. Shirley Holmes was irritated. She had sulked the entire morning and until noon and refused to talk to anyone, especially Mummy. She just wanted the yelling to stop, and for Mummy to stop being so scared all the time. Papa wasn't scared, so why was she?

"Shirley?" she suddenly hear Myrtle's voice coming from her door. Shirley only grumbled in response. "Dad says you have to come to lunch."

"Not hungry," Shirley mumbled into her sheet, turning away from her sister.

"Come on, you haven't even gone out of your room all day," Myrtle said, clearly not wanting to bother with this kind of behavior today. "At least have some juice or something. Please?"

"No."

Myrtle huffed, "fine. Starve to death for all I care. Oh, and just so you know, Mummy's annoying me too. She's annoying everyone. You're not the only victim here, Shirley." She then closed the door shut and Shirley could hear her swear in the hallway. Whatever.

Stupid Mummy. Stupid Myrtle. Shirley just wanted to be alone. Why didn't anyone understand that?

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you can carry that, Joan?" Her mother asked.<p>

Joan struggled with a box of her toys, the weight was almost overbearing. But Joan was persistent, "Y- Yeah." She replied as she took a shaky step towards the house.

"Joan, let your brother get that." Mum told her as she went through the doorway of the house with her own box.

Joan was determined to take in her box to the house. These were her toys, and they were her responsibility. That was the end of the discussion. But by the time she had made it to the door, her mother stood in front of her. "Joan, that box is too heavy for you." She told her.

"N- No it's not." She lied.

"Yes it is." Her mum replied as she took the box from her.

"But mum!" Joan whined, "I want to help!" she said as she followed close behind.

Her mother laughed, "But you've helped so much already! You need to help get your brother of his bum and take a break." She told her.

Joan pouted, but she went to do as she was told. She wandered the house until she found Harry in his new room. He was sitting on the floor against the wall. Joan leaned in, "Mum wants you to get off your bum and help with the boxes." She said.

Harry let out a huff of air, which Joan interpreted as 'fat chance'. Joan rolled her eyes, "You're unhappy about all this, we get it Harry. But would it kill you to stop thinking about how much you don't want to be here, and just open your eyes? We're here now, so get used to it. We're not going back." She told him.

"I could go back." He mumbled.

"What?" Joan asked.

"I could go back and live with Dad." Harry told her.

Anger swept through Joan, "Yeah alright! Go back, then! Go on and stay with the man who ignored you in favour of a beer. Go back to the city and good luck to you!" She shouted.

Joan slammed his door and pivoted around. She stomped away and out of the house. Anywhere was better than being near her brother. Joan stopped when she reached the pavement; she turned her head towards the beautiful house on the hill. Her curiosity was beginning to boil over. So she headed out towards the house.


	2. Chapter Two: New Friends

Chapter Two: New Friends

It was stupid, really, thinking that the burglar would come to their house. Oh yes, Shirley knew about him. But she also knew that all the houses he had been into until now were far away enough that their house was obviously not targeted. But Mummy insisted, only because they were relatively wealthy.

Suddenly, as if someone had just activated a bomb, Mummy opened the door to her room. "Shirley! Do stop sulking and come downstairs, will you?" she said hastily. Shirley could tell she had thought that Myrtle had seen her lying dead or something. "You need to eat something."

Shirley didn't feel like discussing this. She wasn't hungry, and she hated it when people pushed food on her. She sat up in her bed and reached for a small notepad on her nightstand and started flipping through it, ignoring her mother.

"I'm serious, young lady," Mummy said, folding her arms and furrowing her brow. "You remember the last time you didn't eat and passed out during Gym?"

"Gym's boring," Shirley mumbled as she found the page she had been looking for: her notes about the burglar. She really didn't know much, but every time she either heard her parents or the local radio talk about him, she wrote down everything she could. Granted, it wasn't much since she wrote rather slowly, but enough to look at and know that there was nothing to worry about.

Mummy then said something about needing vitamins or something, but Shirley ignored her, instead hopping out of bed and walking past her. She ignored her mother's calls of "Shirley! Shirley, come back here! I'm talking to you!" and went downstairs. Papa and Myrtle were in the kitchen, but she ignored them too. She just needed to be away from this stupid family for a while, so she stepped outside. She heard Mummy scream something, and then Papa's voice came out the kitchen window: "Don't go too far, dear!"

Shirley rolled her eyes. Who did her parents think she was? Some kind of idiot? Why would she even go further than just the front yard? Stupid-heads. With her nose practically buried in her notepad, Shirley reached the small swing set in the yard. Still old and rusty from underuse, she observed. Oh well, wouldn't hurt to sit down somewhere. The ground was damp anyway, and mum would have a fit if she stained her jammies. So she settled for the swing, still reading from her pad.

* * *

><p>When Joan reached the gate of the house on the hill, the house looked even bigger. She wondered who all lived in it. After all, it was an awfully big house for a single person. There had to be others. The property that surrounded the house was a beautiful green. Joan even saw a peek of roses from behind the house. Her mind began to buzz with excitement as she pictured the house having a wondrous backyard.<p>

Before she knew it, her feet were carrying her up the hill. She had seen these kinds of houses in movies. Period films where the women were in elegant frills and the men wore funny wigs. She imagined the house being lined inside with beautiful decor, antique furniture and bordered in gold. Joan's anticipation grew and grew as she pictured the garden, covered in every flower she could imagine.

Without realising it, her pace grew quicker until she circled around the large house. When Joan came to the backyard, she stopped in her tracks. Her hopes were dashed, for the garden wasn't as grand as she pictured. But her heart began to race when she saw a figure sitting on the swing of a swing set. It was a little girl. Joan instantly smiled.

Joan walked up to the girl, and noticed she had a notebook in her hands. "Hello!" she chirped.

Having been so caught up in her notes, Shirley hadn't even noticed that someone or something was slowly approaching her house. When the voice called, her head jerked up from her notepad and she began looking for the source. She didn't have to look for very long, though, as a small sandy-haired girl she had never seen before came skipping towards her.

Oh no. Who had they sent to annoy her this time? Some new, older kid, if the girl's height was any indication. Shirley frowned at the person, and then went back to going over her notes.

Hearing no immediate response, Joan felt a little put-off. Regardless, she walked straight up to the girl. She held her hands behind her back, and leaned towards the girl in curiosity, "Hello." She repeated. Now that she was closer, Joan noted the intense look on the girl's face. She looked very invested in her book, but it didn't detour Joan from trying to make a new friend.

Not even bothering to look up again, Shirley ignored the second greeting in favour of a question: "What'd they tell you to do?"

Her lips curved into a deep frown, "Sorry?" Joan blinked, as she stood upright. That was a strange way to greet someone. Joan wasn't sure what to make of it.

If she hadn't been so cranky, Shirley would have kept on being cryptic in order for this new girl to just admit why she was there. But she was in no mood to stall, so she went right to the point. "Anderson and Donovan," she said plainly, still not looking up. "Why'd they send you?"

Joan raised an eyebrow; "I don't know anyone by those names. I just moved in down the street," she smiled, lending the girl a hand, "I'm Joan-"

"I don't care," Shirley cut her off. "And you're obviously lying. Everyone who talks to me talks to Anderson and Donovan first to see what they should do. Because they hate me." She still kept her harsh monotone, as if she didn't care at all about what she was saying, but she couldn't ignore a small sting in her tummy at her last words.

Joan's jaw slacked, and her hand went back to her side. She could see that the girl was a bit rude, but who could honestly hate this small girl? Joan searched for something to say, "... Well I'm sorry to hear that, but I really don't know who you're going on about." She said.

Persistent, this one. Shirley finally looked up at the girl, and almost fell backwards out of the swing when she saw her eyes. She had never seen anyone look at her like that before, save for Mummy when she wasn't being annoying. Shirley just stared into the girl's (Were they blue? Green?) eyes, trying to read her expression like the men on the telly did. "So why are you here, then?"

Now that she had the girl's attention, she had a better look at her. Before anything, her eyes stood out the most. They were so light; Joan could not place the color. But this only intrigued her more. Joan smiled a bit, "That's what I've been trying to say. I just moved in down the street, and when I saw your house I wanted to get a better look." She shrugged.

"Oh." Shirley was able to break the gaze in order to look in the direction the girl (Joan? Was that her name?) must have meant. "The small brick house?" She needed to be sure. If this 'I just moved in' story was true, then surely this girl knew what she was talking about.

Joan nodded, "That's the one. It's just my mum, my brother and I." she explained.

Shirley was still looking in the house's direction. Okay, so the girl knew about the house. Maybe she really wasn't a minion of Anderson and Donovan's. "D'you do a lot of yardwork?" she suddenly heard herself asking.

Joan looked up in thought, "Dunno! Never really tried," she told her, "I came from the city. We never had much of a garden. Just an apartment with a few plants." she shrugged. This meeting was becoming more bizarre by the minute, but for some reason Joan was okay with that. At least it was interesting. And new. Joan liked new.

Hm. City. Ah, of course. Then the dirt on the girl's hands was probably from falling down on pavements or something. Or perhaps she had been helping out with moving and it was simply dust. Shirley would have to practice her observing skills some more. "Why did you move?" she asked as she looked back at her notes. She had a couple of guesses, but didn't want to utter them - she didn't want to be wrong twice in a row.

At that question, Joan grew a pained expression. "Um. Well. My parents separated. Mum wanted a new start. She's always told me that new is good." She explained with a weak smile.

Yes. That was one of her guesses. Well, she had used the term 'split up', but maybe this meant the same thing. "I wish _my _parents would separate," she mumbled as she flipped a page, wanting to use the same word. "My mummy's so annoying and I don't like her anymore."

"Oh..." That was all Joan could say. This girl seemed to be very smart, and very interesting. It took Joan a moment to realise, "Oh! My name is Joan Watson, by the way. What's yours?" She asked, as she offered her hand again.

Why was the girl constantly shoving her hand in Shirley's face? She ignored it, but looked up at Joan. "I'm... Shirley Holmes," she said, hesitating just a little bit because her mind still wasn't over the fact that someone had actually talked to her without having been prompted into annoying her.

Joan let her hand fall to her side again, but showed a large grin, "It's nice to meet you!" She told her. Joan was happy that she had met someone new. "Do you mind?" She asked as she gestured to the empty swing next to Shirley.

This was new. Not only was this girl - no, Joan - actually interested in talking to her, but also wanted to sit next to her? Wow. Anderson and Donovan would never go this far. "Not really," she replied and looked back on her notes. "It's a bit rusty, though."

Turning her attention to the swing, Joan observed the rust, "Hm. I can see that now." regardless, Joan sat down anyways. She let a small silence fall between them before looking back at Shirley, "So. What are you reading?" she asked.

"Just my notes. I like to look at them and see if I can find clues. Or, you know, pattners," she replied without looking up, flipping another page. "No, patterns. Sorry." _Sorry_? Well, at least Joan hadn't asked what it was about-

"Clues? Patterns? Is it like a game? What exactly are you taking notes of?" Joan couldn't help herself sometimes, as her curiosity knew no bounds. This was beginning to sound very interesting.

Joan seemed genuinely interested, if a bit too curious for Shirley's taste. She took a moment to decide if she should trust her. Normally, if kids asked her what she was up to and she told them, they would deliberately misinterpret it somehow and make fun of her for being 'weird' or 'a freak'. Stupid. But Joan seemed... different, for some reason.

"Do you know about the bulky burglar?"

Joan's eyebrows knitted together, "No. Who's that?" she asked.

"He's this big bloke who's been going around breaking into people's houses and taking all their stuff," Shirley explained. "He only goes into rich people's houses, and he never takes money or anything like that but just really valuable stuff like things that run in the family- err," she looked at her notes, "heirlooms, and- and if the people have kids, he goes for their books and toys and stuff."

She paused to observe Joan's face; she didn't seem to be waiting to laugh. "Mummy's scared of him," she added, unsure of why she did.

"That's terrible!" Joan cried, "So you have notes about him in your book?" she asked.

"Yeah, I try to listen when they talk about him on the radio or the telly or when my parents mention him," Shirley said. "And then I put it together like a line, like- like a room of info, and try to figure him out. I like to do that when I'm bored." _And I get bored a lot_. "I want to show this to the police, but they never listen 'cause I'm so little."

Then Joan got it, "You're like a private detective of sorts, aren't you?" She smiled. Joan had read plenty of detective stories, and they always came with some kind of sidekick. "Say, could I help you?" She asked.

Detective. That sounded awesome, actually. Maybe she was. "How can _you _help?" Shirley asked, sounding a little snappier than she really was.

Joan didn't like Shirley's tone, but she opened her mouth to answer, "Well for one thing-" Joan hesitated, "Two heads are better than one. Maybe if you have me around, I might be able to pick up things you might miss." She said.

Shirley frowned. "I _don't_ miss things," she grumbled and looked back into her notepad, now not really reading anything; she just didn't want to look at Joan at the moment. "I'm clever. Probably cleverer than you, and you're like ten years old."

Joan felt insulted, but she could see that she was right. Joan didn't know much about the girl, but everything she had said so far pointed all the signs towards miniature genius. "Oh alright. I just wanted to help, that's all. I don't know how. It's just that, when I was in the city, everything was dull. Nothing ever happened to me. Nothing exciting, anyways." Joan admitted as she looked at her feet.

Shirley kept on focusing at nothing in particular, but there was something about the tone of Joan's voice that discomforted her. She sounded wrong, for some reason. Shirley had never heard anyone talk like that, not even Myrtle when she was being particularly annoying with her teenager stuff.

"Yeah, well... nothing exciting happens here either," she admitted, her voice a bit softer. Joan would probably appreciate that. "The bulky burglar doesn't even come to this neighborhood, and my Mummy is still scared of him. The only thing that happens here is-" No. She shouldn't. It would sound pitiful and pathetic, and the last thing she needed was someone else's pity.

Disappointment sat in Joan's gut. When Shirley stopped mid sentence, her curiosity rose again. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing, it's... not important."

Joan frowned and got up from the swing. "Well, I better get back to the house." She told Shirley without really looking at her. Joan didn't want to leave, but she knew her mum would be worried if she stayed any longer.

"Wait," Shirley said just before Joan started walking away. She couldn't tell her about it, but she could maybe give her hints. "Will you be going to the local school after the weekend?"

Joan looked at Shirley this time, "Yeah. I'm sure I will." she nodded.

Shirley bit her lip and looked down - not in her notepad this time, but at her feet. "Then you'll see what I mean."

Joan tilted her head in confusion, but still responded, "Alright. Well, I'll see you at school." She said as she turned away.

Shirley dared to look up when she saw that Joan had walked a fair distance. Her mouth twitched. Either this was the most genius and cruel plot Anderson and Donovan had ever put together (doubtful, since they were both idiots), or this Joan person was actually someone Shirley could imagine seeing more of. She decided on the latter.


	3. Chapter Three: New Wounds

Chapter Three: New Wounds

Joan decided she hated uniforms. Blazers, ties, skirts, along with everything else they considered "proper" clothes. Everyone looked the same. Everyone looked boring. Mum didn't think so. "I think you look lovely, Joan." She told her as the car came to a stop, "And put your tie back on Harry, for God's sake..." But Harry continued to pout in his seat.

When everything was situated in the principal's office, Joan was lead to her class. She was introduced and everything was going as expected. Joan tried hard to think what Shirley had meant by the words she had left her with. But she couldn't put a finger on it.

Then break came, and all the school children were playing out on the black pavement. Joan looked around for any sign of Shirley.

Shirley hated break time. No, scratch that; she _loathed _it. It wasn't so much the fact that there wasn't any more studying, even though it was very primitive. No, she would always wait for a chance to go back inside. That was no problem. It wasn't the fact that no one wanted to play with her, either. No, she was used to that. It was no problem. Besides, she liked being alone to have more room to focus, so it was all fine.

No, the problem with break time was two kids: Sam Donovan and... Whatever-her-first-name-was Anderson. Shirley hadn't bothered to find out. But both of them seemed to be determined to irritate her and tease her as much as they could. They would ask her annoyingly simple questions, make her tell them things about other people and then laugh when she got them wrong, make fun of her interest in substances (dirt, grass, and such), and even go so far as to send other kids from their posse to do the same thing.

And there they were, right on cue. Shirley was busy poking a wet, muddy spot on the ground with a stick when she heard them approach her. And if the proudly-sounding footsteps and snickers weren't enough indication, Anderson's ear-grating, nasally laugh was.

"Oi! What do you think your doing, Freak?" Sam asked. A nasty sneer slid on his face as he towered over the girl.

Not bothering to look up this time, Shirley frowned. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know I wasn't allowed to play where I wanted," she mumbled into her chest as she kept looking down.

Anderson snorted. "You call this playing? There's nothing there!" she said and giggled nastily. "Also, no, you're kinda in our spot."

"_Your _spot?" Shirley repeated, this time actually looking up, but only just slightly. "I don't remember seeing you guys play here, ever."

"Well now we want to play here, and you're in the way! So get out of here, Freak." Donovan growled.

From a distance Joan spotted a boy and a girl in front of Shirley. She smiled at first, thinking they were friends. She was excited to meet more of Shirley's friends. So she started over towards Shirley.

"Didn't you hear him?" Anderson said. "He said move."

"No, he didn't. You really need to learn to listen, Anderson," Shirley retorted.

For a second, Anderson had a face like she had been struck by lightning or something. And then she huffed. "I don't care what you say. _Move_!" On the last word, she gave Shirley a nasty shove. Sam laughed.

A fear and sort of panic gripped Joan while she saw Shirley fall to the ground. She broke out into a run. Clearly these two weren't friends with Shirley. She recalled her saying something about "Donovan and Anderson". These were threats to Joan, so she ran up to Shirley, knelt down and propped her up. She threw a glare in the direction of these bullies, "What was that for?" She yelled.

Donovan's laugh died in his throat, and he frowned, "None of your business!" he shouted back.

"The hell it isn't, Shirley is my friend!"

Sam stared at Joan, and then began to laugh. He elbowed Anderson, "Did you hear that? The Freak has a friend!" he laughed.

Anderson joined in. "Ha! That's likely. How long d'you think this one's gonna last? I give her two days until she has enough," she said, as if Joan wasn't even there.

Shirley frowned as she brushed herself of; her legs were still covered in a little bit of dirt, but she would manage.

"I'll give her 'til the end of the day. Then she'll realise how much of a Freak she is." Sam told Anderson.

Joan stood up and placed a finger on Donovan's chest, "Stop calling her a Freak," She said in a warning sort of tone.

"But she _is _a Freak!" Anderson cut in and grabbed Sam's shoulders to tug him away from Joan's hand. "You just haven't seen it yet. You must be new."

Shirley scoffed. "Brilliant, Anderson. Figure that one out on your own?"

Donovan ignored Shirley, and kept his eyes locked on Joan's. "You're new so you don't know what she does. But believe me, when you do you'll turn and run. They always do." He said darkly.

"I think I'd like to decide that for myself." Joan told him.

"You better watch yourself." Sam warned.

"I wouldn't worry about me." Joan said as her glare sharpened.

Donovan huffed and elbowed Anderson, "Let's go." He told her as he pivoted around to walk away.

Anderson cocked an eyebrow at Joan and then made a face at Shirley before turning around to skip after Donovan. Once they were out of sight (or, at least, out of the way for now), Shirley turned to Joan. "You... didn't have to do that," she said awkwardly, unsure of how to act. No one had ever stood up for her like that, so she didn't really know how to feel about it.

Joan whirled around towards Shirley, she almost wanted to scold the girl; _a simple thanks would be enough, _but Joan bit back the remark. "Well I couldn't stand there and do nothing! They pushed you." She said in a hurt tone.

This was almost unreal. Standing up for her _and _sounding as if the idiots had attacked her personally? Joan Watson really was one strange kid. And that was saying something coming from Shirley. "Yeah, they do that a lot," she said as she had another look at her legs. "Can't remember how many times Mummy has had to wash this outfit."

Joan felt her heart sink; this was almost tragic. Her eyes trailed to Shirley's knees. They weren't cut badly, but she saw they were irritated. So she put her hand on Shirley's back, "Come on, let me help clean you up." she said.

"It's... fine," Shirley trailed, but still walked with Joan as if there were two forces at hand; one making her think and speak, and another making her move. Weird.

"No, I want to do this. It'll be fine, my mum's a nurse." Joan told her as they walked across the playground.

Shirley was quiet almost the whole time they walked. She noticed that a couple of kids were looking at them (well, her), and some of them were even whispering. She knew what it was about. The same thing Anderson and Donovan had mentioned: the fact that she had 'lured another one in'. That 'the Freak had gotten another day-friend'. When they had passed most of the groups, Shirley started fidgeting with her hands a bit, and muttered a small "Thank you", which sounded so low and muffled that it wasn't even like she was talking to anyone.

When Joan and Shirley reached a water fountain, she stopped to look at the girl. If she hadn't been so close to her, Joan might have missed it. But she didn't, she heard Shirley perfectly and smiled, "It's no problem." She told her.

Joan took out a cotton white handkerchief from her skirt pocket. Using the fountain, she wet one side of it and then kneeled down to Shirley's knees. She started to clean them off with a gentle touch, in case they became more irritated.

"I don't care what they all say, y'know." She told her, "I'm not the sort to just blindly follow someone else's opinion."

As the cold water touched Shirley's skin, she hissed a bit, having not realised how much the fall had actually scraped her knees. She then simply stared at Joan as she talked, having almost missed what she was saying because she was so caught up in the situation. _Someone is actually helping me out_. "Hm. They all say that. And then they leave," she said plainly before having to hiss again. Darn, that hurt. "It's fine if you do. I won't make a fuss."

Joan stopped what she was doing and looked up at Shirley, "No. It's not fine. I'm not leaving you." She told her, looking at her intently. Then returned to Shirley's knees, "I don't understand why all these people have it out for you, but I'm not just going to sit quietly and look away."

She wanted Shirley to understand that she had no intention of running out on her. Joan felt a sense of over-protection when it came to this girl. And she couldn't just leave her on her own. Shirley was the only friend she had made so far in this new town. And her stubbornness wouldn't allow herself to just abandon her.

This was so new for Shirley. She didn't understand what was happening. The only thing she was certain of was that Joan's tone of voice and intense gaze were doing something funny to her body. It didn't hurt, but there were these strange tingles all over, especially in her tummy. It was nothing like the sting she had felt when she first met Joan; rather, it was comforting and a bit tickling.

"Did you have a lot of friends?" she had to ask to distract herself from both the pain in her knees and the odd tingly sensation. "In the city, I mean."

Joan's mind went instantly to her best friend, "Well. I had a couple friends, but only one best friend. Her name was Milly. We'd known each other since we were really small." She smiled, but it faded after a pause, "She was the most broken up about me moving."

Joan let up on Shirley's knees; they were still red, but at least they were clean. "There you go. That's all I can do. We could go to the school nurse if you'd like." She pointed out as she tucked the handkerchief away in her pocket.

Shirley was only vaguely familiar with the phrase 'best friend' and wondered what it meant. She barely even knew what it meant to have a friend, let alone a best friend. Was it like a friend that was a better friend, hence the superlative? She decided not to think about it for now and just listened to what Joan was saying while she finished. Shirley had honestly never seen her knees this clean during school. Maybe this time, she would actually make it home without having her wounds become infected.

But then she perked a bit at Joan's words and admitted, "we don't have one. Not anymore. The last one quit about two weeks ago and they still haven't found a replacement."

"Oh." Joan simply said. "Well, you could come 'round to my place, and my mum can patch you up." She smiled. Joan felt that not only would she be doing her new friend a favor, she'd be able to visit with her more.

An unfamiliar feeling rushed through Shirley at that. She had never been invited to anyone's house before; not even as a cruel joke, thank goodness. She suddenly found herself getting a little nervous, as if the thought of someone wanting someone like her in their home was that distressing.

"But it's- um, school's not over yet," she excused, so unsure of what to do. Or say. "And there's no- blood. Or anything." Lie. Her knees, at least one of them, had landed on a particularly rocky spot on the ground when Anderson had shoved her, and now that Joan had touched it so much, it was free to bleed as much as it wanted.

"I know that, I meant after school! And I was just looking at your knees, Shirley. You need some kind of bandage." Joan said in a 'don't take me for an idiot' kind of tone, with her hands on her hips.

"They'll be alright," Shirley said, quickly glancing at her knees. "I mean… I'll be alright." She then paused and looked down a bit. "Are you... sure you want me at your house? And- and that your mum will be okay with it?"

Joan's face softened, and a smile curved up on her lips. "Yes, of course. I'm sure my mum would like to meet you." She told her. Something about this girl made Joan feel like she wanted to just take her into her arms, but she resisted the urge. She had a sense that she didn't like the thought of being dependant. Which would explain part of the hesitation.

"And after that, you can see my room, and we can play some games. How does that sound?" Joan asked.

_Unreal_. "Okay," Shirley replied, still looking down. This was so bizarre. This whole conversation. This moment. This _girl_. Joan was too nice, and for the first time, Shirley believed that there was no ulterior motive or an act behind it. It was genuine. And that, aside from her parents and big sister, she had never experienced before.

"I... I think break's over soon," she then said, unsure of how to continue. How _did _the other kids keep talking and talking like there was no tomorrow? What did they say? She hoped she was doing alright, if only to keep Joan's company for as long as she would last.

Joan nodded, "Ah. Right. Well I'll be seeing you then." she said as she turned away.

Joan was happy to have something to look forward to after school. It was the only thing keeping her going as she was tossed about in the sea of strangers. She couldn't wait to learn more about her new friend. Joan felt that she had something to prove by deepening their friendship.


End file.
